A/N – Sorry it's taken so long to get up. I hope you like this chapter as much as the last 3. Tis a little bit longer... I just got carried away writing, I'm sure you won't mind! Thank you for all the reviews, keep them coming! Some people have made comments, or been asking about how Merlin would exist if magic was never banned (because Balinor wouldn't be driven out to Ealdor), so I've included that explanation in this chapter, along with some fluff and feels ;)

Words: 2800

Warnings: None. Just fluff :P

CHAPTER 4

Arthur was sat at the table; grinning like a fool. Sitting around him was Merlin, Morgana, Guinevere, his mother, 2 knights and a court official. As he looked around, watching everyone in wonderment, he caught Gwen's gaze. She smiled fondly at him, then reached out her hand and gave his a small squeeze. He smiled warmly in return and turned to look at the others – they were, all of them, sitting around, talking; sharing banter, as they ate their breakfast.

Morgana looked more beautiful than ever, and there was no denying Merlin seemed happy. He looked different, but a good kind of different in his noble attire. Gwen was clearly happy with their life here; currently chatting away with Ygraine across the table. He could scarcely believe it, but right now, despite the recent shocks and revelations he'd experienced, he couldn't be happier. Everything was a new kind of perfect he hadn't even conceived possible before now.

"Are you alright, Arthur?" Ygraine questioned quietly, as she saw his full plate.

Arthur brought himself from his thoughts and looked down to the plate in front of him. "Oh, I'm fine. Thank you," he replied, picking up a piece of fruit and eating it.

He beamed at his mother and she couldn't help but chortle somewhat.

"He's such a charmer today, I don't know what's gotten into him!" Morgana joked as she turned to Ygraine.

Sitting right next to her, Ygraine reached out and touched her arm affectionately as she joked in return; something about Arthur's usual grumpy demeanour. But he wasn't really paying attention. He was gazing at the pair of them; his sister and mother. Now thinking about exactly how his mother's survival changed so many things, he stared in wonderment at the women. It only now occurred to him that for Morgana to be born, his father would have had to betray Arthur's mother in his affair with Viviane, and for a moment it broke his heart. But looking at the two of them, giggling and smiling unashamedly as they chatted away, he couldn't help but marvel at his mother's strength. It would have been easy for her to hate Morgana; a constant reminder of her husband's unfaithfulness. But not only did she still speak of Uther as a imperfect, but good and on the whole 'kind' man, but she seemed to treat Morgana like a daughter.

As Arthur sat there, beaming as he ate away, a feeling washed over him unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. It was as though he was being released from a pain he didn't know he had. Watching Morgana, Ygraine and Guinevere talk and laugh together was simply moving. They all seemed more than content – something you wish on all your loved ones, but it was Morgana's smile that seemed to hit him right in the heart. She looked, above all things, genuinely happy. There was light in her eyes again, and she was smiling – not a smirk of contempt after getting her way even though she knew it was wrong, but a real, infectious smile. He hadn't seen her this happy since before her parents died! Seeing that kind of happiness in her was a faded memory in his mind of their childhood together when he was still too young to even pick up a sword! He couldn't help but feel blessed on so many levels – that having a mother-figure around; someone to love and protect Morgana; someone to side with her even when she was wrong – had instilled in Morgana such a security and happiness she could be this happy and content.

Arthur was pulled from his thoughts when the entire table erupted in laughter. Grinning along, he joined them in their joke and enjoyed a meal with his family – for the first time in his life, with everyone there.

As the morning continued, the young King began to think more on the revelation about Merlin, which he'd received this morning and was still working over in his mind. Eventually, after some consideration, he took a moment to swallow his pride, clear his throat and walk over to talk to Merlin.

"Merlin," he said as he sat down beside him, "I'm sorry about this morning. I wasn't terribly respectful... I was, well... confused." He coughed rather awkwardly, clearing his throat.

Merlin looked at him, as though trying to suss him out for a moment, then spoke. "Don't worry your majesty. I'm used to it." He replied simply.

Somewhat put out by his abrupt answer, and unsure of exactly how to continue a conversation with someone he thought he'd known, but could be a completely different person in this world, Arthur paused awkwardly. Searching for something to day, he continued, attempting to pursue the conversation. "Any news from the er... magical front?"

Merlin almost laughed; a smile began to grow at the sides of his mouth. "No, sire." He cleared his throat and Arthur noticed as he glanced over at Morgana for a moment, before continuing, "I gave you a report yesterday. I can assure you nothing has changed since. But I'll be sure to let you know when anything important happens in the... 'magical front'."

"Yes, but would you tell me again what was in the report?"

Merlin, still eyeing Arthur suspiciously, answered, "Nothing of importance your majesty. There have been no more sightings of the Griffin. Nimueh sends her regards. The Dragons are keeping peacefully in the north, my father tells me."

Arthur had to swallow hard to avoid spitting out his wine all over Merlin. "Dragons?" he repeated slowly.

Dragons. Dragons... dragons. As the daunting prospect that there could be dozens, even hundreds of Dragons gallivanting around the Kingdom, or patrolling the skies, sunk in, Arthur closed his eyes for a moment. No, he can't have heard right – there was no way, in his right mind, Uther would ever have allowed Dragons to continue roaming free, even if magic had never been outlawed! After all, they were extremely volatile and terrifying creatures, and as far as Arthur's experience went, even the existence of one put the Kingdom in great danger!

"Yes, sire, the Dragons." Merlin replied, "My father assures me there's no trouble – they weren't happy with the Elite Treaty you made with the Saxons last winter, as you know, but they remain peaceful. The Dragonlord Order is a sacred one, Arthur, and you know they're loyal to you. They've no reason to lie."

Arthur took a moment to process the information. "Right! Dragons. Peace... Good." he echoed, trying not to appear overwhelmed. That's erm... good."

When a somewhat awkward silence fell between them, Arthur saw Morgana shoot Merlin a look out of the corner of his eye. Merlin sighed heavily, rubbing his eyebrow for a moment. Then he looked up at Arthur and his tact completely changed.

"You know I plan to join them," he said, his tone somewhat softer all of a sudden. "after my father passes. It would be an honour to serve in that way; to be a Dragonlord."

"You'll be a Dragonlord?"

Merlin took a moment again, as though having to prepare himself for each time he spoke. "Yes, your majesty." He replied, "It's an ancient gift – a bloodline; passed from father to son."

"I didn't know your father was a Dragonlord..." he breathed in wonderment. It was all Arthur could muster.

"You don't remember him?" Merlin enquired. "You've met him before! Balinor – he came to Camelot not two years ago, when there was some unrest with the Eastern Dragons."

Arthur had to make a point of closing his mouth so he didn't sit there, gawping at Merlin like a fool all morning. "Balinor was your father?" he spluttered.

As the words left his lips, Arthur's mind went instantly back to that terrible day when the Great Dragon was released from beneath Camelot's depths and it attacked the city relentlessly for the following week. The journey to go and find Balinor; the last Dragonlord alive, was one of the most important missions he'd ever undertaken. He wasn't likely to forget such a person in a hurry!

He also remembered the absolute devastation he felt for Camelot's doom when Balinor died in Merlin's arms during a battle and suddenly Arthur's heart was filled with sorrow as he realised that Merlin had been not been grieving for Camelot, but cradling his own dying father in his arms! Had he known who he was? He must have – it would explain why he'd been so quiet for the entirety of their journey. A feeling began to consume Arthur, unlike anything he'd ever really known before – this sense of sympathy and confusion as he began to realise the full extent to which he'd never really known Merlin at all. It made him uneasy to think of all the things that actually remained a complete mystery about his servant. Just how many secrets had Merlin kept from him? To realise just how much pain Merlin had experienced; all he'd gone through, and all the while, suffered in silence, made Arthur feel quite guilty...

As Arthur continued to process this information, and he replayed those few days involving Balinor in his mind, the realisation suddenly dawned on him that if Balinor was a Dragonlord, and that magical power was passed from father to son, then it must have been Merlin who defeated the Dragon at the battle on Camelot's Hill...

Unaware he was really doing it, Arthur continued to stare, absolutely gobsmacked as he began to see just how much he really owed Merlin. Still festering a distrust and no small amount of bitterness towards him for keeping the secret of his magic from him for so long, Arthur didn't want to admit it, but he owed Merlin his life – probably tenfold. He couldn't help but wonder – how many times had Merlin's valiant efforts in saving his life gone unnoticed? All those times he was injured and when he woke up his wound was healed – had Merlin used magic to cure him? All those battles where small, inexplicable things happened that he couldn't really explain – enemies suddenly dropping to the ground, soldiers dropping weapons – were they too Merlin's doing?

Arthur breathed out slowly. "I didn't know Balinor was your father." Was all he could muster, then after a break, he blinked slowly and finished, "You know, you are an incredible man, Merlin."

Merlin looked taken aback. "Uh... thank you, Arthur." He said, somewhat puzzled.

"Tell me more about your father." Arthur inquired eagerly.

Merlin raised an eyebrow in response.

"I'm sorry, I just... I want to know more about you. You told me you never knew your father..."

"Arthur, I've always known my father!" Merlin replied, looking confused. "He ventured to Cendred's Kingdom when he heard of a Dragon attack in those lands, many years ago, and met my mother in Ealdor – a small village on the outskirts of the Kingdom, and... he never left."

Arthur continued to nod as Merlin spoke, now genuinely interested to hear more about Merlin; wondering if the information was the same for the man he'd known in another life. Or had Uther driven Balinor out for being a Dragonlord and forced him into hiding? As he listened intently to Merlin talking more about his life back in Ealdor, and his parents', Arthur shook his head slowly in wonderment. It was mind blowing to realise the extent to which his mother's death had affected seemingly everything about his life – even the life of Merlin's parents.

As they continued talking; the conversation beginning to progress naturally, and Arthur started to feel the same relaxed nature of their interactions, he noticed something else about this dark haired boy... No matter what he was saying, every few seconds, Merlin would shoot a glance over at Morgana, who caught his eye while talking to Ygraine, and smiled back. In fact, it was as though they couldn't keep their eyes of each other, and there was something in their eyes; something in their smiles he hadn't seen before...

As he returned to his seat at the head of the table, he couldn't help but smile, looking at them as they continued to find one reason after another to look at each other or touch one another's hand. He was surprised to see them so affectionate towards one another, but then when he thought about it; it was hardly a big leap. He'd known for a long time that many years ago Merlin had harboured feelings for Morgana, and he'd always dismissed it because quite simply – he didn't believe it could ever happen; certainly not with his father around. Merlinwas a serving boy and she was the first lady of Camelot. But what about in this world, where Merlin was a nobleman of high stature? In many ways, he supposed, it was inevitable...

As breakfast finally finished and everyone began to filter out slowly, Arthur watched them go, still beaming. When his mother and wife looked back at him for a moment, he attempted to contain his smile, but to no avail. Pleasantly confused, they both left, leaving Arthur alone in the hall.

He was picking up his long coat from the back of his chair when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye – Merlin was leaning up against the wall behind a pillar, smiling. Confused, Arthur moved forward, and from behind the pillar she appeared and he realised Merlin was standing only a few inches away from Morgana.

He watched as Merlin moved in and gently placed a kiss on Morgana's lips – an affectionate gesture she returne. Soon they were locked in an passionate but clearly loving embrace. Unsure of exactly what to do, Arthur simply hovered awkwardly. If he made much noise, they'd realise he was there, and they'd all feel awkward – he didn't exactly fancy a scolding from his sister; he knew how fierce and sarcastic she could be. But he didn't exactly feel comfortable standing there, trying not to watch as his former servant and long-since-lost sister wrapped their arms around each other, giggling as they kissed.

Then Arthur's breath caught as he saw Merlin move back for a moment and they began to whisper to each other, talking softly. Merlin whispered something; an incantation, and his eyes glowed gold for a moment. The King waited, still holding his breath, unsure of what exactly Merlin had done, and silently wondering if perhaps Merlin had cast a love-spell on his sister.

But then he opened his hand to reveal a small red rose, produced seemingly from nowhere. He smiled freely as he reached up and slid it in between her long dark curls, and then said something to her; too quiet for Arthur to hear. Morgana whipsered something back, beaming up at Merlin. Trying not to stare, Arthur pondered on how he couldn't ever really recall that kind of happiness painted on her face in such a perfect, blissful expression; not even when they were children.

Trying to take in everything without being too overwhelmed, Arthur turned to leave as he threw his coat around his shoulders. But as he turned, he stopped short, his eyes widening in horror. Right in front of him, at the end of the hall stood a peasant – the same one as before – covered in blood and bruises. The young boy, whose clothes were torn and stained, lifted his head and looked up at Arthur with an expression of so much sadness that he felt a painful twang of compassion in his heart.

"Morgana!" he called, turning to glance at his sister, who was now alone, for assistance.

Hearing the frenzied tone of his voice, Morgana appeared from behind the pillar quickly looking concerned. But when Arthur turned back to look at the young peasant boy, once again, he'd disappeared. Arthur's frantic eyes scanned the hall, searching for some sign that he'd really been there as Morgana's hand gripped his arm gently.

"Yes?"

He turned to Morgana, bewildered and dismayed. "Er... nothing," he muttered, quietly wondering if he could be going mad.

She looked up at him, then at door, where his gaze had been fixed on only a moment ago, somewhat concerned. "Arthur?"

Forcing a smile, his mind buzzing with all kinds of questions, Arthur just answered, "Nevermind. It's nothing, sorry."